


Love You like a First Kiss

by Agent25



Series: One Love for the Heart [7]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes in Wakanda, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-22 03:11:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent25/pseuds/Agent25
Summary: Five kisses Bucky received during his recovery in Wakanda. And the one that mattered most.





	1. Babalwa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five kisses Bucky received during his recovery in Wakanda. And the one that mattered most.

**1.**

 

Golden sunlight crept in through the opening of the hut as it bathed Bucky in its warm glow. His eyes slowly blinked open and he momentarily tensed at the seeimingly unfamiliar location. His pale blue eyes darted up to the thatched roof as he intently focused on his surroundings, hand clenched as it reached for the weapon he no longer carried at his hip.

Outside he could hear the faint rustle of tree branches dancing in the wind, the lyrical song of birds communicating with one another, and the soothing trickle of water.

Right. He was in Wakanda.

He was safe.

The tension that had been surging through his body immediately washed away as he relaxed back upon his cot. His eyes slipped shut as he regulated his breathing, allowing deep, calming breaths to fill his lungs as he breathed out through his nose. He felt his heartbeat slow with his controlled ministrations.

When he finally felt completely at ease his eyes opened and with a turn of his head he looked to the doorway of his hut. The blanket draped across the opening that served as a makeshift door was swaying lightly with the morning breeze.

Part of him wanted to remain hidden here in the shade of his little hut where no one would see him, but Shuri had been adamant when she had placed him here weeks ago that he was not to become a recluse. That his recovery would not be accomplished alone. He was among friends, it just took his brain some time to always remember that, particularly when waking up.

So with another deep breath Bucky used his good arm to push himself off of his bunk, the blankets falling away. He sat up, placing both feet soundly on the ground as he rolled his neck, groaning in relief as it cracked resoundingly. He stood smoothly, his mind immediately catching the shift of weight as the rest of his body made up for his missing left arm.

Ducking his head, he stepped outside into the daylight. His eyes fluttered as the sun blinded him before acclimating. As always, the view in front of him took his breath away as he stepped forward. Wakanda was unlike any other country or city he had ever seen. He half thought he was dreaming up its existence because, really, how could such a beautiful place as this truly be real?

Only midmorning and the day was already promising to be a pleasantly warm one. Bucky loved the heat, loved the way it encased him, chasing away the decades of cold that Hydra had forced upon him.

The grass felt cool beneath Bucky’s bare feet as he wandered towards the riverbank. The water was so strikingly blue that he could see fish flashing this way and that as they swam. He kneeled easily before the water, his navy shawl dipping down his shoulder, as he used his right arm to cup water in his hand. He splashed the water across his face, the refreshing coolness hitting him as droplets dripped down his chin.

He tipped his head back, allowing the sun to hit him head on as he closed his eyes, listening to the peaceful sounds of nature occurring all around him. After several minutes of quiet contemplation his ears perked up as he heard a pitter-patter of feet stalking towards him.

The corner of his mouth curled up into a small smile as he glanced over his shoulder, seeing a herd of small children closing in on him.

 _“Ingcuka Emhlophe!”_ they loudly crowed, their brightly painted faces breaking out into large smiles. Bucky couldn’t help but echo their inherent joy as he stood, already knowing what game these little rascals were up to.

It seemed to be their favorite pastime, coming to spy on the weird white man living in their village. Bucky really couldn’t blame them, he was quite the oddity even without the missing arm. He kept his feet in a wide stance to see which little soul would be brave enough to go first.

Unsurprising, it was the tallest of the pack, a lanky boy by the name of Lwazi, who lunged first. Bucky easily lurched away just seconds before the boy’s hands could grasp onto Bucky’s robes. He continued dancing back across the grass as the children chased after him wild gleeful abandonment, trying to tag him.

Bucky, playing along, would roar and throw his head back in the air, making funny faces as the children scampered past him. Their delighted laughter echoed all around as they cornered him.

Bucky allowed himself to act winded and sluggish as he avoided a fierce slap to the back of his leg. He swaggered backwards, giving the children the perfect opportunity to pin him. He fell back to the ground, thumping down as the children dogpiled him.

“Oomph!” His breath was forced out of him as they crawled across him. He squirmed beneath their flailing limbs as knees and elbows knocked against his sides.

 _“Ndiyanikela!”_ he yelled through wheezing breaths as the children cheered victoriously, high-fiving each other like Bucky had taught them to. Their heads all raised as parents called for them. They were quick to jump off of the super-soldier, scattering everywhere with shouts and waves to Bucky as they disappeared back into the surrounding huts, their little feet kicking up dirt as they sped away.  

Bucky watched them go with a wide grin, laughter still lurking within him as he laid back, enjoying the radiant sunshine. His hand twined through the grass blades, nails digging into the dirt as the rich earth clung to his skin. He felt grounded for the first time in a long time as he gazed up at the endless blue sky.

Finally, after some time, he raised himself to his feet and took off for the heart of the village. Their surroundings were rural and rustic, but Wakanda’s famed technology was present even here as children played with flying toys that swooped through the air and news displays flashed across 3D holopads. Above them a Dragon Flyer flew past, shimmering with purple vibranium as it cast a shadow across the open market before zipping off to the horizon.

Bucky strolled idly through the outdoor space, nodding his head and smiling as vendors and villagers called out _molo_ to him, trying to entice him with their sweets and fruits.

“Bucky!” a melodic voice called out across the crowd. Bucky turned his head and a grin broke across his weathered face as he stepped up quickly to the village’s Elder, Babalwa. She was seated in a wicker chair outside her traditional bungalow, cane resting across her knobby knees.

Bucky came to a stop at her feet, immediately bending over respectfully as he placed his palm down on the red earth. Keeping his head down, he greeted her in Wakandan, _“Good morning, Babalwa. Hope you slept well.”_

She chuckled roundly as she placed an ancient hand atop his bent head, patting him once, signaling him to stand. She nodded to the chair next to her as he sat down gratefully.

“Always so kind to an old woman, you are.” she teased him in accented English, eyes crinkling joyously as she watched him with her observing dark eyes. She was old, but unlike many others Bucky had known, she did not buckle beneath her vast age, but rather stood strong because of it. The wrinkles and lines spread across her wise face were a map of the long life she had lived so far.

It was Babalwa who had been the first to greet Bucky when he had come to live in this little village among the lush, green lands of the River Tribe. It was Babalwa who always received him with a gentle, knowing smile whenever she saw him.

“Well, if you’re old,” he told her, his lips quirking up as he joked, “Then I’m positively antique.” It still felt foreign, sometimes, to tease and joke with others around him. When he had attempted it in the past it had always felt like he was trying too hard to be the Bucky Barnes that had followed Captain America into war instead of the pale facsimile that he knew he was. But times like these the teasing came naturally to him. Times like these he didn’t feel like James Buchannan Barnes or the Winter Soldier…he was just Bucky.

Those were the best moments of all, fleeting as they could be.

Babalwa laughed, tossing her head back as she reached out, amicably slapping his shoulder with her wrinkled hand. The two shared grins before settling back into their chairs and watching the village around them. Bucky’s head was lulling back when Babalwa spoke to him, this time in Wakandan.

 _“It is good,”_ she declared sagely, _“That you are here, among the people.”_

Bucky couldn’t help but blink in surprise as he glanced at her, eyebrows furrowed questioningly.

A slow smile spread across her face, _“You found your way to us. Having you here has changed us, just as much – I hope – as we have changed you.”_

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes darted down to his feet, unable to meet Babalwa’s knowing eyes. If he looked at her too long he feared she would see what was in his soul.

Nothing but darkness. In the beginning of his stay in the village he had been afraid to interact with the curious faces who had come to see him. Not because he feared his inhuman strength or the control Hydra once drilled into him, but because he was a tainted individual with too much messy trauma and guilt coursing through his veins. He didn’t want to ruin others with his touch and presence.

So he had tried to hide away. Staying inside his hut and only coming out at night while the village slept. Babalwa hadn’t stood for it, charging in through his hut with the determination that even Steve would cower beneath. She had pushed him out into the little world that existed around him. The children had come next, nipping at his heels with their carefree laughter and innocent hands. White Wolf, they called him with hushed whispers.

Now Bucky knew everyone by name, was greeted as _friend_ and _brother_ whenever he walked among them. The kinship and camaraderie was something Bucky never believed he would feel again and it still stunned him when such kindness was given easily to him.

“I did not find my way,” he murmured hoarsely, still staring stubbornly at his feet as emotion coiled through his gut. “I was lost.”

He startled when Babalwa reached out, placing her warm palm on the stump of his left arm. He looked to her, eyes wide with emotions he couldn’t name. She leaned in, gaze never leaving his as she firmly told him,

_“To get lost is to learn the way.”_

He felt the tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he dropped his head, shoulders shaking with so many feelings that Hydra had tried to burn out of him. He distantly heard Babalwa click her tongue as she slowly raised herself from her seat and stood in front of him, both hands placed upon his shoulders.

“Oh, Bucky,” she uttered gently as her venerable hands cupped his face, forcing him to raise his head and look her in the eye.

“It makes my heart happy to have you here. Never forget that.”

He sucked in a breath before slowly nodding his head, his body alight with a kind of peace he hadn’t felt in decades. Babalwa once again smiled before leaning in, pressing a single kiss to his forehead with her chapped lips.

They felt dry against his skin as they lingered there for a long moment. Bucky’s eyes couldn’t help but close at the affectionate gesture that he hadn’t experienced in so long. His eyes opened as she pulled away. She looked down at him, eyes twinkling before she clicked her tongue, grabbed her cane and walked away, leaving him to watch her go.

When she was gone, he leaned back into his chair, hand reaching up to touch the smooth skin where she had kissed him. It felt warm beneath his searching fingers.

And for the rest of the day, when he reached up to touch his forehead he felt a tingling sensation there.

And every time it made him smile. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I know. I said I'd be better at updating and I've been the worst at it. Sorry, all. But if it makes you feel better, I still have a lot of ideas buzzing through my head! I love writing this series and plan on continuing it. Hopefully Infinity War will provide ample inspiration. From the way Sebastian Stan has been speaking in interviews, I am very excited to see Bucky's life in Wakanda.
> 
> This was initially going to be a oneshot, but as I was typing this first entry, I realized with its length it would work better as a multi-chapter fic. I am excited to see where it leads me as I keep writing it. 
> 
> The way Bucky greets Babalwa is a variation on how young Yoruba people greet their elders, so I tried to incorporate that into this fic. The phrase Babalwa says to Bucky about being lost is an actual African proverb. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the love you guys have shown this series. You guys make it so worth it! I'd love to hear your feedback about this fic. 
> 
> Translation (from Google):  
> Ingcuka Emhlophe - White Wolf  
> Ndiyanikela - I surrender  
> Molo - Hello


	2. Steve

**2.**

 

The new arm was…something else.

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of it as he sat at the edge of the river. The sun had set moments before, bathing the surrounding land in hues of deep purples and blues as the sky continued darkening into night. Behind him fire crackled as flames danced in the shadows, casting an eerie glow onto the still waters. Crickets and tree frogs had begun their nightly calls, the buzz of them echoing around as trees rustled in the faint breeze. Some of the goats that had come into Bucky’s care were bleating lightly to one another as they roamed though the tall grasses, grazing at the blades.

It felt strange, after nearly half a year without an arm, to adjust to it once again. He had long ago corrected his body movements to make up for the loss of his limb. He was self-sufficient with only one hand, and whatever he failed at, the villagers and children were always quick to jump in and help him.

He had found life without the arm…peaceful, and calm.

He never had to second guess himself when only one handed. His life was easy, filled with routine and predictability. He got up with the sun, looked after his goats and gardens, played with the children, ate dinner with the elders, watched the sunset and retired back to his little hut and await the coming of the next day.

A simple life, but a desired one.

If he had his way whatever remained of his ruined, scarred life would be this way.

Unfortunately for him, Shuri had other plans about how he was to spend the remainder of his time.

She had come to him weeks ago, telling him that the next stages of his recovery involved branching out, facing and conquering his deep-seated fears.

She wanted him in the Golden City, right at the heart of Wakanda.

She also wanted to give him a new arm.

He had immediately blanched at the idea. It was one thing to live among so many people again after his time in the River Tribe, but a new arm?

He had broken out into a cold sweat the moment she had said it, memories of his years with Hydra crashing into his mind like a tidal wave. It was like he was having the surgery all over again, when they sawed off the remains of his arm to place on the metal prosthesis. He had backed himself into a corner of Shuri’s lab, crouched down, and clutching his head as he muttered to himself, rocking back and forth as tears spilled down his cheeks.

It had taken Shuri and her Dora Milaje nearly an hour to calm him down and lure him out of his hiding spot.

Shuri had been sympathetic with her gentle eyes and warm touches, always carefully cataloguing her movements so he never felt trapped.

But even through the unending kindness she had remained firm on the arm.

And at the end of the day who was he to disagree? She was the genius between the two of them. And if he had learned anything in his time in Wakanda, it was that Shuri was almost always nearly right.

So here he was, three days post-surgery and with a new, vibranium arm.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Deceptively light and crafted with the utmost care and eye for detail. The other arm had been a bulky, ugly appendage that had always been too heavy for Bucky’s frame to carry. Because why would Hydra ever care that their Asset was in pain? As he long as he completed the mission, they couldn't care less for his comfort. They’d just shove him into a freezer until they needed him again.

Shuri’s invention was sleek and modern, yet still maintaining the tribal traditions of Wakanda. It was a burnished slate, with golden inlays woven throughout the various grooves and dips of the arm.

His arm from Hydra had been unfeeling, only picking up strong pain receptors so they knew when to fix it. But this arm had all the sensations of flesh and bone. He could feel the grass blades as he guided his metallic hand lightly over them. Earlier he had reached out and patted Mosi – one of his goats – on the head and he had felt the soft fur as he twined his fingers through it.

It was all so much.

And now here he sat, legs pulled towards him, as he peered down at the arm, expression detached and emotionless as he clenched and unclenched his fist, hearing the arm whirl quietly with every movement.

It wasn’t Hydra’s arm. It wasn’t covered with the blood of innocents, like the scientist in Odessa, or the politician in Dallas or…Howard and Maria Stark.

Bucky shuddered as he turned his head away, forcibly closing his eyes as he struggled to breathe. He rocked back and forth, murmuring to himself in Wakandan. Finally, after several long moments, the tension drained out of him, leaving him exhausted and weary as his shoulders dropped.

Who was he, to live here in this paradise? What had he done to deserve peace and rest after all the monstrous things he had done?

People were dead because of him. So many lives lost, and so many more lives forever altered because of _his_ actions. It didn’t matter that he had no say in it, he had still _done_ it.

Their blood was on his hands.

They were his burdens to carry.

His spiraling thoughts were interrupted as he heard nearly silent footsteps walking up to him from behind. He audibly sighed because it didn’t matter if he was a 90lbs soaking wet or a mammoth of a man, Steve Rogers had been walking the same way for nearly a century.

Bucky didn’t say anything as Steve came to a stop next to him, surveying the river for a moment before plopping down into the grass next to him. Their shoulders brushed as Steve sat and of course he sat on Bucky’s _left side_ , touching the new arm all the while. Bucky flinched away, not ready for it to be touched yet by anyone else.

The people here were too good to be tainted by Bucky’s touch. Steve as well.

“The Princess call you?” he asked, still not looking at his friend as he stared ahead. In the distance he could see a hippo’s head breaking through the surface of the water before disappearing back into the depths.

“Yep,” Steve popped the ‘p’ as he remained deliberately pleasant, as if this was just an evening chat between buddies. He felt the holes Steve was burning into the side of his head but he had always been a stubborn sonofabitch and so remained determinedly looking ahead.

“I guess she told you about _this.”_ He gestured to the vibranium arm as it hung listlessly in his lap. He had his right hand clamped around the wrist, as if afraid it would lash out without his consent.

“She did.” Steve confirmed, “Though I have to admit, I was mighty surprised to have to hear it from her.” _And not you_ , the words went unspoken between the two of them. A lot of things these days went unspoken between the pair. They used to tell each other everything, now...not so much. Another thing that was Bucky's fault. 

Bucky grunted mutinously as he curled in more. “It never came up.” he weakly defended, knowing Steve would call bullshit.

“Buck,” Steve unimpressively deadpanned, “We talk nearly every day. It should have come up.”

Silence. And then a sigh as Steve shook his head.

“You know I would have been here,” he offered quietly, “If I had known.”

Bucky’s throat felt thick as he stamped down some of the guilt of once again keeping Steve out of the loop. He snapped his head once in a nod. “I know.”

Getting over himself, he finally tilted his head, looking Steve in the eye for the first time. He didn’t look vastly different from a month ago when he had spent a weekend here among the River Tribe. They had pretended they were camping, like they had always wanted to do as kids, pack everything up and go west towards the Grand Canyon.

His hair was longer, more dirty-blonde than golden. The stubble he had been beginning to foster had now turned into an actual beard. And what a sight it was to see Steve – who back in Brooklyn had never even been capable of facial hair – now have an entire beard covering his face.

It still tripped him up sometimes, seeing the Steve of today when the smaller Steve of his memories still filtered in from time to time. Yet, even as big as he was now, Steve still had the characteristics of being small. He kept out of peoples’ way, like he had in Brooklyn when he learned that people had a tendency to mow the weaker down without even an apology. Somehow, even with all the muscles, he still looked delicate and fragile.

And sad, he looked very sad.

It made Bucky’s heart hurt to see him so sad.

Particularly when he knew he was the cause.

Because Steve had had a life before Bucky had messed it up. He had a team watching his back as one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. He had been doing good, fighting all the wrongs he had dreamed of.

But then Romania happened, and then Berlin and then Siberia…

Now Steve had nothing. Nowhere to call home, team broken apart beyond repair, allies and friends scattered across the globe.

Just more blood on Bucky’s hands.

Steve smiled slightly as he glanced down at the vibranium arm, eyes catching all the artistic details with ease.

“It’s nice, Buck. Real nice.” His voice was genuine and heartfelt as he spoke and he looked so happy for Bucky to have this little piece of himself back.

And it gutted Bucky to see.

“Why you bein’ so nice to me?” he growled angrily, “In case you forgot, you don’t have a home or a team because of me.”

Steve instantly deflated as his shoulders slumped dejectedly. “That wasn’t your fault, Bucky. The Avengers…we were over even before Zemo. The Sokovia Accords made sure of that.”

“Stop surgarcoatin’ things for my benefit, Rogers.” Bucky snarled, “Just tell me what we both already know.”

Steve’s nostrils flared in warning as he narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

“That I’m a monster!” Bucky exploded, his harsh yell booming around the open space, startling his goats who scurried away.

“That I don’t deserve this arm or this little slice of heaven here in Wakanda. You should have left me for dead in Bucharest, it would have been the kind thing to do.”

Of all the things he expected, it was most definitely not the fierce slug to his shoulder.

“Oww!” he howled as he was nearly knocked sideways to the ground by the force of the punch. He reached up, rubbing at his shoulder tenderly as he glared at Steve.

“What the hell was that for?” he snapped.

Steve looked equally as pissed off as his cheeks flushed an indignant red, one of the flaws of his pale, Irish skin.

“For bein’ an idiot.” he stated, as if that explained everything. And in his world it probably did.

“For fuck’s sake, Steve.” Bucky muttered as he continued rubbing his bruised skin. “That hurt.”

“Good,” Steve said with a prim nod of the head, “That was the point. Only way I could think of gettin’ such stupid thoughts out of your head.”

And just like that the ice shattered between the two of them. Bucky’s lips quirked up in a small grin. Steve followed suit, his face lighting up entirely as he smiled largely at his friend, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Punk.” Bucky fondly chastised, watching as Steve’s smile grew.

“Jerk,” he echoed, companionably nudging Bucky’s shoulder with his own. Quiet settled in between them as Steve breathed out deeply, the light in his eyes fading as he turned solemnly towards Bucky. He reached for the vibranium hand, clasping it between both of his. Bucky couldn’t help but startle at the warmth that encased his trapped limb.

He could feel every callous and scar littered across Steve’s palms. Even with his enhanced body, his fingers had remained long and elegant, true artist hands.

What a travesty that instead of holding a paint brush they had been forced to carry a shield for so long.

What had happened to them? How had they ended up here, so far from home?

Bucky idly watched as Steve’s fingers traced over the lines of his metallic hand. When he raised his head, looking Bucky square in the eyes, his entire face was open and earnest.

“I need you to understand something,” he spoke slowly, as if wanting every word to seep into Bucky’s bones so he’d never forget them.

“What happened with the Avengers…and with Tony, sucked. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever gone through.”

Bucky winced, wanting to look away, but Steve squeezed his hand tightly, forcing Bucky to remain staring at him helplessly.

“But no matter how much it hurt, I wouldn’t change a thing. You hear me? I’d make the same decision a hundred times over, Buck. Even knowing how it ends, I’d choose it all the same. You know why?”

This was too much. Nearly on the verge of tears Bucky got out, “Because you like getting punched?”

He had said something similar to that once, long ago, in an alleyway in Brooklyn. It was before the War, before Project Rebirth, before Hydra.

Back when they had just been Steve and Bucky.

Steve shook his head, chuckling wetly as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. “No, because it brought you back to me. Don’t you see? Buck, you’re my best friend. There’s no Steve Rogers without Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky’s heart constricted in his throat as he blinked rapidly, emotions swirling through him.

“And this?” Steve held up Bucky’s vibranium hand, admiring it in the firelight behind them as the gold flickered enchantingly.

“This doesn’t make you a monster. Hydra’s the monster. And you fought them as best you could for as long as you could. You’re the strongest person I know, Buck.”

He brought the hand up to his mouth and placed a tender kiss to the mechanical knuckles. Bucky gasped at the sensation as it rolled through him.

The gentleness of the action astounded Bucky as he stared dumbstruck at his friend.

Steve held onto the hand for a long time before finally letting it go.

“You understand me?” he asked and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, if only to fact that he was trying to hard not to cry.

“Yeah,” he forced out as he reached up and wiped his eyes. “I understand.”

A cool breeze whipped past them and Bucky shivered. Without thinking of it he scooted up to Steve’s side, pressing them together from shoulder to hip. Steve’s heat soaked into his body, keeping the cold at bay.

Steve, the furnace, had no qualms as they sat huddled together. By now darkness had settled across the land and the stars twinkled above them, stretching on for miles like a celestial tapestry. Bucky couldn’t help but admire them as he dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder, feeling tired all of a sudden. As a memory swept by, he smiled gently.

“Hey, Stevie.” he whispered, not wanting to ruin the peace surrounding them.

“Yeah, Buck?” Steve asked, just as quiet as he looked up at the sky.

“We made it to the future.”

 A choked laugh came out of Steve’s throat as he slowly nodded, pressing in tighter to Bucky just like they had in Brooklyn.

They weren’t in Brooklyn anymore. But this wasn’t a bad place to be.

In fact, it was pretty perfect.

“Yeah, Buck,” he agreed, “We did.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! I couldn't help but add in goats after seeing Infinity War. I love everything about Bucky's newfound life in Wakanda, and I wished we could have seen more of it. 
> 
> Thank you for all the previous reviews! I'd love to hear your feedback for this chapter. You guys are all awesome!


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